


So Alive

by kinsale_42



Series: McHanzo [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blackwatch Era, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergent, Casual Sex, First Time, Hand Jobs, Lots of kissing, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pseudonyms, Sojiro is still alive, The Ramen Shop is a safe place for young Shimadas, Younger McHanzo, copious consent, dance club, meeting at the club, mentions of Gabriel Reyes, no beta we die like men, sort of a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 03:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20370190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinsale_42/pseuds/kinsale_42
Summary: Hanzo slips out of the Shimada compound one night to blow off steam at his favorite club, where no one judges him for who or what he is, and bumps into a gawky but attractive Westerner who's also out on the town without permission and looking for something exciting after days of working a boring security detail.I wrote this because I loved the idea of it and I needed a short break from my main McH thread. Does it fit with the main thread? It could absolutely work, but for me it's a separate take. However, I support anyone who wants to consider it part of my canon.Update, 12/1/19. I decided this could totally fit with my other stories and have decided to incorporate it, even if it's a bit *convenient* that they met once many years before present day. Next story will be posted soon!





	So Alive

_ I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars. _Richard Siken, “Crush”

  


*

  


Hanzo smiled to himself as he landed in the deepest shadows outside the gate with only the faintest whisper of a sound. He didn’t know if he had the new boots or his latest nano-infusion to thank for it, but he was appreciative nonetheless. Slipping from shadow to shadow, he made his way round to the service entrance of the ramen shop and swiftly punched the entry code to release the lock. Only inside, with his back against the closed door, did he allow himself to relax. This place was safe.

The shop owner paused in the midst of his nightly closing tasks to poke his head into the back room. “Ah! Hanzo. Evening out?”

He nodded. “Yes, Shin. I need a break.” Even though he’d said it a million times over the years, he continued solemnly, “Thank you for your generous hospitality.”

His friend smiled at the ritual. “You are always welcome here, my boy. You know that. Are you hungry? I still have some warm noodles.”

“No, thank you. I just need to change. I won’t trouble you further.” He began to sidle towards the restroom, where the employee lockers were.

Shin nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Alright then. Have fun tonight.” He returned to his work, whistling under his breath.

Hanzo closed the door behind him and went straight for his locker. He didn’t work at the ramen shop, but his father would have blown a gasket if he’d tried to hide any of the things he had stashed here at home instead. Because there was no privacy at home, they would have been found in short order. Shin had been friends with Hanzo’s mother when they were children, and he looked after Hanzo and Genji like he was their benevolent and tolerant uncle, allowing them freedoms his father did not. Hanzo trusted him not to judge, and honored Shin’s one rule: no weapons.

As he gazed over the contents of his locker, he thought, _ these may not be weapons, but they are certainly dangerous _. Hanzo quickly stripped off his dark athletic clothing and tucked it in the bottom of the locker before thumbing through his small collection of clubwear and selecting his favorites. It had been a difficult week, and nothing less than the best would do tonight.

Once dressed, this time in a blue crushed velvet tee with a cascade of gold and pink blossoms embroidered over one shoulder and a pair of bronze-colored satin jeans, he pulled the ribbon from his hair and picked the long braid apart with his fingers, smoothing the silky waves as they fell down his back. He reached for the small purple pouch that hid in the shadows on the top shelf, and turned to the mirror.

Five minutes later, Hanzo was ready. He closed the locker and spun the combination lock, and was out of the ramen shop and down the alley towards his favorite nightclub before Shin could even catch a glimpse of him.

*

Jesse followed the faint thumping of the music across the street and around the corner. He was AWOL and he knew it, but damn Gabe. He’d been dragged halfway across the globe and for what? Nothing. Security detail for a lousy conference in Seoul and not even a non-stop flight home. He’d been stuck in a backwater hotel in a village that had been swallowed up by Tokyo long ago for the night while they waited for their flight home in the morning. So he’d gone up to his room early, claiming he was tired. Gabe had definitely recognized Jesse was cranky and let him go. Did Gabe have any idea Jesse would sneak out? Perhaps. Perhaps not. 

Whatever. Jesse really didn’t care right now. If he was going to be punished tomorrow, he would damn well earn it tonight. He was thirsty, and needed some stimulation, and that nightclub looked like just the ticket. Once he was through the doors, it didn’t take long for him to guzzle down one tall, icy cold Japanese lager and ask for another as the music and dancing throbbed around him.

His second beer delivered, he leaned against the bar and turned his attention to the mass of bodies on the dance floor. It was an average sort of crowd, Jesse thought, except it was primarily Asian. There were a few attractive folks and a lot of normal-looking folks, and most of them looked like they were having a good time. That fact alone cheered him, after three days of sour-faced old men and women discussing world security issues. He took a long pull on his drink, and wondered for a minute why it seemed like it was hitting him so hard until he remembered he hadn’t eaten dinner. Oops.

Then the crowd shifted, and the lights changed, or maybe Jesse just looked in a direction he hadn’t before, and a young man about his age caught his eye. His softly shimmering clothes did nothing to disguise his lithe and muscular physique, as if the strong brow and straight nose weren’t attractive enough on their own. Maybe it was the beer buzz, but Jesse thought he could write a novel just about those cheekbones. He finished his beer without noticing it, and was making his way across the crowded floor before he realized what he was doing.

It was only when he was in the middle of the sea of gyrating bodies that he suddenly doubted himself. Could he be misreading this? It was a mixed crowd, after all. There were guys dancing with guys, but there were also guys dancing with girls, and his brief education on Japanese culture didn’t get into gay etiquette and nonverbal signals. Jesse stopped a few feet behind the attractive man, who didn’t appear to be dancing with anyone but himself, and he just stood there in the dazzling, multicolored lights, the music and movement surrounding him.

*

Hanzo had downed a quick couple of shots of whisky as soon as he arrived at the club. It wasn’t his favorite, but he needed something that worked quickly to loosen him up, and he knew it would do the trick. He slipped a request to the dj along with a fairly generous tip, and when his song began to play, he was already on the dance floor, letting the music take him over. It felt so freeing to release his combat-trained body into something that didn’t result in destruction. He knew his experience was limited, but to him, the flow of the sound waves through his flesh and his intuitive translation of that into motion, well, it was almost like love. He floated along on the buzz of it all, his eyes half closed, not paying much attention to who was around him beyond trying not to crash into anyone.

Hanzo spun on the balls of his feet, his loose hair swirling around him, and stopped abruptly at the lanky Westerner that was standing there, watching him awkwardly. Uncharacteristically he didn't miss a beat, and surprising himself at his forwardness, he leaned forward and said loudly, “Will you not dance?”

Jesse felt himself flush. This was exactly what he’d wanted and he was almost shocked that it had come to pass. “Yes, yes I will dance,” he shouted back. His new friend’s English was exceptionally clear, and this, too, pleased Jesse, because his Japanese was very limited. He began to move, feeling terribly like he’d never danced before, at least not compared to this man with the catlike grace that moved next to him. But the beat was easy, and the beer had given him a little added gumption, and he mirrored a few of his companion’s moves, and this seemed to meet with approval.

The more Hanzo looked Jesse over, the more astonished he was. At first glance, he was tall and good-looking. He wore a simple, dark colored t-shirt, but he was wearing the tightest pair of Levi’s 501s that Hanzo had ever seen on a man. And on his feet? Cowboy boots! Pointy, pointy cowboy boots. His brown hair was a little shaggy, and wavy enough that it turned up at the ends and curled around his ears, and there was a few days’ worth of scruff on his chin, like a movie star. Hanzo danced a little closer, glad he’d worn the boots that gave him another inch of height.

Jesse’s heart was pounding as Hanzo got closer, close enough that Jesse could smell his cologne, and see his deftly applied eyeliner, and catch the lights glinting off the fine glitter in his hair. This was magic. He was dancing with a magic creature, and he was afraid if he got close enough to touch, the gorgeous creature would vanish. But then, without meaning to, his hand touched Hanzo’s waist, and it was warm, and alive, and Jesse was flabbergasted. He was real. This wasn’t a dream. And before he knew it, Hanzo was touching him, too, pulling their bodies together. He felt strong fingers slide across his ass and he flexed a little bit, automatically showing off his own muscles. The heat between them intensified as they continued to move with the music.

At last, Jesse was beginning to feel a little winded, and knew if he didn’t step back for a minute he might get a little too forward in the middle of a crowd. He leaned down and spoke directly into Hanzo’s ear. A strand of glittery black silk brushed his cheek as he did so.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

Hanzo tipped his chin up to reply in kind. “You may!”

*

They stood together, wedged in a corner at the back of the bar. Conversation was difficult, because the music was still loud, but they were so close that yelling in each other’s ear was easily achievable, and Jesse had so many questions he wanted to ask. And he minded getting up close to that lovely ear not in the slightest.

“My name is James!” he shouted, automatically providing his current cover name. “What can I call you?”

Hanzo hadn’t thought about this eventuality. He couldn’t tell his real name to a stranger, especially not a foreigner. But then, this James hadn’t actually asked for his name, had he? Was this a different sort of vernacular to what he had been taught?

He went with the first thing he could think of. “You may call me Ren,” he yelled back, his lips dangerously close to Jesse’s plump earlobe. He licked his lips before he moved away, and the very tip caught the fine hairs there and it made Jesse shiver.

Jesse had to take a breath to stabilize, but then he leaned right back in. “Well, Ren, I have to ask you one question.”

Hanzo raised his eyebrows.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jesse said. “You’ve done this…” He gently touched the sparkling hair. “And lined your eyes so nicely.” He trailed a fingertip along Hanzo’s cheekbone. “But there is no color added here.” He dared to briefly touch the same fingertip to Hanzo’s lower lip.

Hanzo’s head was spinning and he wasn’t convinced it was just the alcohol. “I do not…” He trailed off, the thought incomplete, the words spiraling out of his grasp.

Jesse thought that maybe his companion didn’t understand what he was saying. He touched Hanzo’s lips again. “Your lips,” he said. “They should be pink.” He racked his brain, knowing he’d learned the Japanese colors. “Momoiro!” he hollered into Hanzo’s ear. When he leaned back again to see his new friend’s reaction, he was delighted to see that Hanzo had actually turned a shade of pink at the suggestion.

“I do not possess such things,” Hanzo finally replied. It had been a long and complicated process to get the eyeliner. He’d never dared to try to acquire lipstick, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to wear it anyway. Theatrical makeup was one thing, and he liked eyeliner, because it was black and balanced out his brows. Lip color had always seemed a bit too far, but maybe if someone this appealing thought it was a good idea, he might try it someday?

“Well, that’s too bad,” shouted Jesse. “But I can think of another way your lips could get nice and rosy.”

Hanzo’s brows drew together slightly as he looked questioningly into Jesse’s face. The answer became crystal clear when Jesse’s warm, beer-scented lips touched his. He didn't know what he expected from the gangly American, but Jesse's kiss was just the right balance of tender and demanding, and suggested to Hanzo that he was dealing with someone who had at least some measure of experience. He set his drink down, forgetting it in the face of a different kind of thirst.

Jesse felt one of Hanzo's hands slide across the small of his back, and the other caressed his ass again, smoothing his flesh like clay as they kissed in the dark corner of the club. In response, he slipped his own fingers between them, curving his palm over the contour of Hanzo's hip, then letting it drift across towards more sensitive regions. When Hanzo thrust his crotch into Jesse's hand, his heart skipped a beat. He'd never actually picked up a guy at a club before, but the voice in his head reminded him that he was only in town for tonight, and what better chance would he have? He couldn't count on this measure of freedom again any time soon. Jesse pulled away from Hanzo's lips and brought his mouth once more to Hanzo's ear, this time laying his cheek against his companion's.

"Come back to my hotel," he said, his heart in his throat. He leaned back to see Hanzo's response, but Hanzo simply drew him closer.

"Yes." 

*

Once out in the street, Jesse was gratified that Hanzo seemed to understand the need for discretion as they hurried through the alleyway to the hotel. Before they had to step out into the one street that had to be crossed, Jesse stopped in the last shadows of the alley.

“Wait,” he said quietly. Hanzo looked at him expectantly. “I have to ask you something I should have asked earlier.” He swallowed, suddenly nervous and hoping like hell he wouldn’t insult this gorgeous creature. “Are you over eighteen years old?” If anyone knew that minimum age requirements at bars were flexible, it was Jesse. But he had to at least do his due diligence on this point. He couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

Hanzo smiled. “Twenty-three is my age. Thank you.” It usually riled him to be assumed younger than his years, but strangely enough, in this situation, he was flattered by the American’s concern for propriety.

“One more thing, please don’t be insulted. I don’t mean to be rude, and I wouldn’t judge, but, erm...ahh…” Jesse paused and scratched at his beard. How could he phrase this to minimize insult and maximize understanding? “Are you a professional?”

Hanzo’s meticulously groomed brows drew together in puzzlement. He felt a tickle of fear that his daytime occupations were obvious even when he left them within the gates of the Shimada compound.

“I mean sex, I’m sorry. Do you, you know, have sex for money?” Jesse’s face was on fire. That did it, the beautiful tiger spirit would now turn tail and leave him with the trash in the alleyway.

Hanzo almost laughed in relief. “No, I do not. Is that what you want?”

Jesse smiled when he saw how easily Hanzo responded. “No, it’s not, I shouldn’t...but if you were I might be inclined to engage your services anyway.” He reached out and tucked a stray lock of damp hair behind Hanzo’s ear, and then before either of them had time to work out the implications of that last statement, Jesse grabbed his hand and they sprinted together across the street to the alley on the opposite side, the one that ran behind the hotel.

They climbed the same service stairs that had let Jesse slip out earlier without passing through any of the hotel common areas, and tiptoed down the softly-lit passageway to Jesse’s room, still holding hands. Jesse swiped his keycard and the lock clicked open, and he couldn’t help but hold his breath as he pushed the door open. Reyes had a habit of appearing unexpectedly in places Jesse didn’t think he had access to, and if there was ever a time that Jesse really did not want him to show up, it was right now.

The room was dark, as he’d left it, and he reached for the light switch as the door swung shut behind them, but Hanzo stopped his hand. Silently, barely more than a shadow himself, Hanzo moved to the window and pressed the button that changed the glass from opaque to transparent. Jesse caught his breath as the panoramic view of the lights of Tokyo below became visible, and after quickly double-checking that his boss was indeed not lying in wait for him, he went to stand by his new friend’s side at the window.

All the way back to the hotel, Jesse had been convincing himself that picking up a lover at a bar was something adults did, and he was an adult, so why shouldn’t he, but now, alone with this strange and lovely creature in this foreign room, he felt lost and unprepared. Hanzo, too, was suddenly shy, but the part of him that insisted he must show no fear or doubt took over, and he turned and slid his arms around his taller lover. They moved naturally into a kiss, one that started very gently, where Hanzo could clearly distinguish the soft skin of Jesse’s lips from the firmer flesh that surrounded them, and feel the coarse bristle of his stubble. It did not take long for the kiss to evolve into something quite a bit more desperate, as they both felt the limits of time pressing in on them, and Hanzo’s mouth was just as demanding as his lover’s, their tongues dancing and caressing each other.

Hanzo’s hands found their way under Jesse’s shirt, and he was enthralled by the warm skin, and the downy fur that covered his chest. Jesse cradled Hanzo’s head in his palms, his fingers buried in the glittering silk threads of his hair, as they continued to kiss, and Hanzo’s touch seemed to awaken every nerve ending in his body.

Hanzo lifted Jesse’s shirt, and Jesse disengaged to let him pull it off over his head. His fingers returned immediately to stroke Hanzo's hair as Hanzo bent to touch his lips to the heated skin along Jesse's collarbone. Jesse shivered. Hanzo tore off his own shirt and kicked off his shoes before pushing his lover down on the bed, covering the expanse of Jesse’s bare chest with his own. The sensation of contact that rushed over him took his breath away.

Meanwhile, Jesse managed to push his boots off onto the floor while wrapping his arms around the body that had so suddenly covered him. He could feel Hanzo’s heartbeat pounding a rapid rhythm, so fierce he thought it might burst out of his chest. Jesse was trembling, unexpectedly feeling exposed and inexperienced, when he realized Hanzo was also shaking. He lifted the head that lay buried in his shoulder, and their eyes met in the false twilight of the city lights.

His mouth opened to speak, but all Jesse could think to say was, “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.” Either the words were perfect, or the reverent tone of his voice, because Hanzo’s lips curved into a soft smile and the seriousness around his eyes relaxed. He flipped his hair back over his shoulder and leaned in to press his mouth to Jesse’s, saying with actions what he could not with words.

They rolled together across the bed for a while, lips more occupied with touch than speech, hands discovering the soft and tender places on each other’s bodies, gradually straying further and further south. Soon they were breathless, and the intensity with which they stroked and squeezed each other had increased until their bodies were screaming for release.

“Cowboy,” Hanzo said quietly. Carefully he pronounced the name Jesse had given. “James.”

“Yes, Ren?”

A tangential thought occurred to Hanzo. “Like Jesse James?”

Jesse swallowed. “Sort of.”

Hanzo was satisfied, or at least he didn’t care enough to delve further. Instead, he returned to his original line of questioning. “Cowboy, what is your pleasure?”

Relief came quickly, and Jesse could now appreciate how attractive his lover’s voice was, hearing it properly in the quiet room. It was rich and dark, and liquid, like ink spilled across cream-colored manuscript paper. And Hanzo had spoken his real name in that voice. There was no time to enjoy it, however, with more pressing matters at hand.

“You are, sugar. You’re so hot, just being in the room with you turns me on.” Jesse realized this wasn’t a very helpful answer but he wasn’t sure what else to say. He was up for anything as long as they both got off in the end. “I just want to see you happy when we’re finished. So, whatever you’re comfortable with is good for me.” He hoped that Hanzo understood enough English to follow his ramblings, because his head was spinning too much to put more effort into it.

“May I…?” Hanzo’s fingers found the top button of Jesse’s jeans. They were lying on their sides, facing each other, and the feel of his lover’s knuckles against Jesse’s abdomen tickled.

Jesse nodded. “Yes, please. Lead the way.”

Hanzo deftly pulled the button open with one hand, and then when he discovered that the jeans had a button fly, he deliberately popped each button open slowly and with enough force that it sent a jolt straight to Jesse’s dick. The result of the increased attention was plainly evident as the denim was peeled back to reveal he was wearing nothing else underneath.

Jesse let himself be nudged over onto his back again, and they both worked to get the skin tight jeans removed as quickly as possible. He stripped off his socks too, and now he was completely naked, erection quivering as Hanzo looked him over. He groaned as those strong, square-tipped fingers followed the visual appraisal, running up and down his thighs and lightly stroking the more sensitive parts above.

“Do you like this?” Hanzo asked as he closed his hand around Jesse’s cock and rubbed it. Jesse nodded.

“Yes, I do.”

“And this? Do you like this?” Hanzo bent down, his hair falling in a curtain around his face and drifting cool and soft across Jesse’s abdomen. He took the tip of Jesse’s cock in his mouth, stroking it with his tongue. He shifted his hand down a bit, but kept up his massage.

“Oh...oh yes, I like that.” Jesse started to get worried that he was going to get loud very quickly, and he did not want to be overheard. He stifled a moan as best he could, letting out only a small choked sound. Hanzo lifted his head and Jesse could breathe again.

“Do you…” Hanzo paused to suck on his finger. “Do you like this?” He reached down and used the moistened fingertip to tease at Jesse’s rosy hole.

A new fire leapt into life inside Jesse’s body. “Oh lordy, yes, oh that’s nice.” He pulled up his legs to give his lover better access, leaving his feet flat on the mattress on either side of Hanzo’s chest, his knees naturally falling slightly apart. Hanzo bent down again and took more of Jesse’s erection into the hot whirlpool of his mouth while continuing to rub at his pucker with a damp finger, pressing gently into its center until it opened for him.

Hanzo hadn’t set out to make Jesse’s pleasure his focus at the start of their liaison, but something about the American brought back all the things he’d learned from his first boyfriend. He wanted so much to see the cowboy come undone like that first lover had, and he hoped it would be as raw and gorgeous as he anticipated. Every low moan that escaped Jesse’s lips stirred something in Hanzo’s belly, and his own groin was throbbing as a result.

He wet his finger again, and slipped it right inside, aiming for the spot he knew would tear most men apart. Hanzo knew he’d found it when Jesse arched his back and stuffed his fist in his mouth. Jesse’s other hand found Hanzo’s head and began gently petting his hair as he sucked the salt from the cowboy’s cock.

“Oh god,” Jesse groaned, the fist forgotten. “Holy fuck that’s good.” He stilled Hanzo’s head and lifted his face. “Ren…”

Hanzo’s lips were puffy and slick, and as pink as Jesse could hope for, though it wasn’t obvious in the dim light, and he could still taste the bitter pre-come that had leaked onto his tongue. He blinked.

“Ren, would you, um…” Jesse struggled again to find terminology that could be easily understood. “What I mean to say is, uh, I’d really like to feel you inside me.” And then he realized what he’d said. He’d never gone this far with an actual guy before. He’d used toys and various random objects, depending on how frantic he was, but up to this point, his man-to-man experience had been mostly handjobs and sucking each other off. But somehow, this seemed like destiny. This man was the one.

Hanzo inclined his head in acknowledgement, and after leaving a swift kiss on Jesse’s downy abdomen, he quickly shucked his trousers and undergarments, digging in his pockets before he tossed the pants aside. He always took a few condoms with him to the club, just in case, although he rarely had occasion to use one. Tonight he thanked every ancestor he could remember for having the foresight to do so. Before he put one on, though, he leaned over his partner to kiss him, letting his dick graze tantalizingly along Jesse’s, and relishing the gasp that he drew from his lover’s lips. He held them both together and gave them a few quick strokes, stimulating them both, before sitting back to put on a rubber.

Jesse had entered a new dimension, beyond the beer, beyond making out. He was dizzy, his head full of stars, and completely enraptured. He felt Hanzo’s finger return to his crinkled entrance, this time slick with the extra lube from the condom packet, and it felt so good. He concentrated on relaxing, and Hanzo slipped two fingers in straight away, thrusting them in and out, and pulling at his rim to help him open up. A third finger joined the first two, and Jesse was feeling a little stretched. But his lover was gentle, and there was no pain, only pleasure.

“Is this good, cowboy?” Hanzo asked. Jesse seemed to be enjoying this, but the facial expressions for pleasure and pain were sometimes very similar.

“Ohhh yes,” said Jesse, his reply more a moan than words.

Hanzo licked his lips and prepared to insert himself into his lover. He hoped it wouldn’t be over before it had begun, but they’d been messing around for so long and he had been desperately aroused for most of it. He removed his fingers, and lined the head of his cock up with Jesse’s pucker, nudging against it carefully. Even that delicate pressure was sending sparks up through his body, and the anticipation of the hot, wet embrace he would get once he’d entered was enough to make him delirious.

Jesse’s hands were on Hanzo’s chest, teasing his nipples and smoothing their way across his muscles. He rubbed his thumbs along Hanzo’s collarbone, and idly caressed the tattoos that decorated his shoulders. Then when the head of Hanzo’s cock finally breached him, he clung to those arms like an anchor as his world was rocked.

“Wow,” he panted. “This is so much better...better than a toy.” Hanzo’s warm, living flesh filled him, slowly pushing deeper before withdrawing partway, then sliding in again even deeper than before.

Hanzo’s strokes were slow, and well-spaced, as he was unwilling to hurt his partner, and trying to prolong the rapture as best he could.

Hanzo lifted one of Jesse’s legs, trying to get the angle to hit that sweet spot again, and either his aim was that good or Jesse was that sensitive because he reacted immediately. Hanzo was encouraged, and began to thrust a little more energetically, wrapping his free hand around his lover’s hard cock but failing to maintain any kind of stroking rhythm while he was so caught up in his own. Jesse enclosed his hand with one of his own, and guided it into a pattern that closely approximated Hanzo’s thrusting.

Hanzo’s eyes were slitted and unfocused as he felt his climax approaching. He was helpless to stop it, but before it launched him into the stratosphere, he heard his cowboy make a strangled vocalization. The delicious tightness that had been pulling Hanzo so swiftly towards orgasm was now rippling and squeezing him. Somewhere at the back of it all, he noticed his hand was wet, but it was quickly lost in the mayhem as he reached his edge at last, and came just after Jesse, collapsing on his lover’s now-relaxed body.

Time seemed suspended for a little while as they lay together, their limbs entwined, but Hanzo felt his condom slipping and had to move at last or risk making a mess in the bed where presumably his lover would want to sleep. So he carefully extricated himself, leaving a warm kiss on Jesse’s lips before he made his way to the tiny bathroom to clean up. He reappeared with a cloth in his hand for Jesse to use, but he froze just outside the bathroom door. Jesse had folded back the rumpled coverlet and pulled the sheet across his hips, and he lay there, stretched out on his side, waiting for Hanzo to return with the glowing panorama of Tokyo and the faint distant outline of Mt. Fuji behind him. It made Hanzo’s heart stop. He was not going to forget this encounter, not in a million lifetimes. He found his breath again and returned to his lover’s side.

“I cannot stay,” Hanzo said quietly, standing by the bed as Jesse cleaned himself of the evidence of their ecstasy. For the first time in a long time, he truly wished he did not have to say it.

Jesse looked up at him, and it was his first real opportunity to see the man fully naked, every curve and angle of his body astonishingly beautiful in his eyes. “I know. I mean, I figured.” He tossed the cloth aside and made more room under the covers for Hanzo. “Just a few more minutes?”

Hanzo glanced at the clock by the bed, and considered the amount of light in the sky outside. He would really be pushing things if he didn’t leave now. He still had to stop by the ramen shop and wash and change before heading home.

“A few minutes.” He climbed into bed and slipped naturally into Jesse’s arms. Hanzo did not want to go back to Shimada Castle. He had found a better home in this strange American’s embrace.

They kissed a few times, and Jesse traced the bones in Hanzo’s face with his fingers, as if he was trying to memorize them. Neither of them wanted the night to end, but they both knew it would happen all too soon.

“You are very handsome, James. For an American.” Hanzo, too, was trying to etch his lover’s features into his memory.

Jesse grinned, his mouth curving up slightly more on one side than the other. “You’re pretty damn stunning yourself, Ren. For a human.” He laughed softly. “In fact, you may have just about ruined me for anyone else for quite some time.” They kissed again, and Jesse held Hanzo tightly, burying his face in his lover’s neck, letting Hanzo’s silky hair fall once more across his cheek.

When Jesse released him, Hanzo slid out of the warm bed, and if Jesse noticed that his eyes seemed more liquid than they had before, he didn’t say anything. He just lay back and watched as Hanzo got dressed, wishing that he was staying in Japan longer, wishing they had time to actually get to know each other. He had a feeling they would get on well, beyond the mutual physical attraction. But there was nothing for it.

Once he was clothed again, Hanzo leaned down for one last kiss before leaving, and it began as tentatively as their first kiss had before flowering into something warmer, with just a touch of sadness.

“I must go now,” Hanzo whispered.

“Wait, let me give you something.” Jesse fumbled for his wallet, confusing Hanzo, who thought they’d both understood that he didn’t have sex for money. But all Jesse came up with was a small copper coin.“It’s my lucky penny,” he said as he held it out. “They don’t make them anymore. Please take it, to remember me by.”

“But it will leave you without fortune,” Hanzo protested as the coin was pressed into his hand.

“Lover, I have been blessed a thousand times just to meet you. And I’m tough, I can take a few unlucky turns. I promise. Please, I want you to have it.”

Hanzo closed his fingers around the talisman. “I will remember you, cowboy.”

“And I will never forget you, samurai.”

Hanzo smiled, and then he was gone, the hotel door quietly clicking shut behind him.

  


*

Jesse woke to his alarm a few hours later, and stumbled around his hotel room in that happy half-daze of sex-related sleep-deprivation, trying to pack and straighten up as quickly as he could. As he shook out the blankets, looking for forgotten socks, something narrow and bright caught the light as it fell to the floor. He bent over to pick it up, and at first its significance failed to register. Then it clicked.

It was a golden silk ribbon, crinkled in the middle where it had been used to tie something. Something like hair--long, black hair. He touched it to his lips, and he could smell the same scent as whatever hair product Ren had used. Jesse’s heart swelled, rekindling the afterglow of their lovemaking. Now he had a new lucky token, one that would tie him to this place forever. He tucked it carefully away in his wallet, and finished getting ready to leave for the airport.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Halfway through writing this, I heard "So Alive" by Love & Rockets on the radio and I thought, yes, this song absolutely captures the essence of this piece. It's a classic, and the trope of the star-crossed lovers who are like ships that pass in the night is also a classic. https://songwhip.com/song/love-and-rockets/so-alive


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